Escape
by Cassie Valentine
Summary: It was a loud, clear, bright laugh, one that he rarely heard from her and he took a moment to revel in it before he heard himself joining it.


* * *

  
The week before it had been cold and damp in the city as the weather continued to dump rain onto the planet. Granted, it was nothing like the storm they'd faced a few years back, but still. Elizabeth supposed she should have been grateful that the rain at least alternated between pouring, drizzling and everything in between.

This week, however, the sun had emerged and the city was now hot and muggy. The air was heavy and seemed to press down on all of them and there was nothing they could do to change this fact.

Uniforms had been disguarded in favour of light t-shirts, shorts and capris as the expedition attempted to survive the humidity with as much dignity as they could manage.

Letting her mind wander from the science reports in front of her, she found her gaze drifting down to the people milling about in the gateroom. Those that could had abandoned the control center and headed to territory closer to the ground. They all realized that heat rose; they were smart people after all. With a sigh, she pushed her limp, sweaty hair off of her forehead once again before returning to the document in front of her.  


* * *

  
John Sheppard look up from the small device he was playing with. Rodney had thrown it at him a few days ago, telling him to take it, play with it, figure out what it did and to stay the hell away from him until he had an answer. The Canadian apparently didn't do well in the humidity and heat, he mused. He glanced around the gateroom, taking in all the people who were finding excuses to work here instead of in the control room and he couldn't help but smile. Eventually he turned his gaze up higher, to the glass walled office on the other side of the catwalk to observe it's lone occupant.

She was flushed, hot and frustrated like everyone else in the city. He took a moment to wonder if she was following Carson's advice about plenty of rest and fluids but his train of thought derailed violently as he watched her throw her stylus across the room before dragging her hands through her hair. He watched as her long fingers combed in into a some what manageable pony tail before she began digging through her desk for an elastic to hold it in place. He couldn't stop his head from shaking in amazement as she deftly twisted it into an impossible shape that the elastic held perfectly in place, keeping the hair off the back of her neck and, finally, off of her forehead

The things women could do with their hair was endlessly fascinating to him and he couldn't figure out why. He let his mind wander a little more, trying to figure out how she had done what she had done but was quickly snapped out of it when he realized a young marine was calling his attention to something. By the time he had dealt with the matter and turned his gaze back up to her office, Elizabeth had disappeared.

"Here, have fun," he said, handing the small device to one of the scientists before heading up the stairs to her office. He looked around for clues as to where she had escaped to but he only found the stylus laying on the floor. He picked it up and put it back on her desk and that was when he felt the heavy breeze on him. "Ugh," he groaned, feeling the humid air weighing down upon him and another layer of sweat starting to stick his shirt to his back.

He followed the breeze through a few corridors until he came to a little balcony he hadn't realized was there. He stuck his head out the door and couldn't help but grin as he saw Elizabeth Weir, socks tucked neatly into her shoes, sitting on the balcony, feet hanging over the edge as she leaned on the railing, allowing the breeze from the ocean to hit her.

"Is this a private party?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

"No," she said, not bothering to move from where she was. "But it is a shoe free zone," she advised. He snickered as he took his boots and socks off, coming to sit beside her and let his feet dangle over the edge as well.

"Well, all we need now are some straw hats and a couple of fishing poles," he quipped as he leaned on the railing as well, glancing sideways at her. She returned the look, squinting in the sun a little. They shared a smile before she looked towards the water again, closing her eyes and giving a little sigh as she relaxed and tried to convince herself that the breeze was cooling her off. "I was thinking that maybe we should look into building a small dock off one of the piers, into the water," he said after a long moment of silence. "I mean, all this ocean? Seems like a waste not to swim in it."

"And who's going to build this dock?" she asked, not bothering to look at him or open her eyes. "And with what are they going to build it?"

"Elizabeth, we're living in a floating city full of super geniuses. There must be at least person who knows how to design a dock and a couple more who can swing a hammer."

"That's a lot of assumptions for this group," she quipped and deep down, he knew she was right. People in the city tended to be academics and not large fans of manual labour. John, however, was undaunted now that he was having visions of diving into an ocean.

"If I can find them?"

"I guess you're going to be building us a swimming dock then," she said with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders.

"Excellent," he said, a smile on his face as he leaned into the light breeze, making no moves to get on the new project. He was simply happy to be sitting barefoot in the sun with her.

"Well?" she asked him after a moment.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to get started? I think I was promised a dock in the ocean." He looked over at her, a confused look on his face simply because she hadn't seemed very enthusiastic about the idea. "Or are you just a tease John Sheppard?"

"I am no such thing," he protested. "It's just. . . do you want this done quick or do you want it done right?"

"Done right, I suppose," she said.

"Good. And before I get the dock done right, I'm going to make sure that I do my loitering right." She laughed at him for that comment and he was glad to hear it. It was a loud, clear, bright laugh, one that he rarely heard from her and he took a moment to revel in it before he heard himself joining it. Maybe this humid weather wasn't such a bad thing after all.  


* * *


End file.
